Girl in Pieces

If you like Girl, Interrupted, All The Bright Places, or Thirteen Reasons Why, you’ll love Kathleen Glasgow’s first novel, Girl In Pieces

As first novels go, this one was good. Kathleen Glasgow’s novel is about a girl named Charlie who is struggling with self-harm, and emotional issues after a traumatic incident.
She was sent to a mental hospital, to help her deal with her issues. When she gets out, she moves in with her best friend and tries to start her life over again. This time, stronger. But, like how real life is, it will always be hard.
Charlie is haunted by her past, and constantly telling herself that she can do this. I find that when there is such a dark theme, it makes it hard to write about, because of how emotional scarring it is, but Kathleen Glasgow nails it.
One thing I found interesting, is that she struggled with self-harm herself, so it was just a tad bit easier on her part. When you experience something, it’s easier to write about than if you hadn’t.

As someone who actually struggled with self-harm (Ironic, cause this, is literally my story) I found this story to be scarily true. Like she was in my head when she wrote it. She was watching me, and writing about it.

At some parts, I was confused, but I understood. It was her thinking, and not really being there, and it didn’t make much sense, but then I realized, that’s what it’s like in my head. Her [Charlie’s] story, will probably make you cry, a little angry, but it WILL change your opinion about people who self-harm.

Overall I give this novel a 70-80%
Below is an excerpt from the story:

The girls here, they try to get me to talk. They want to know:

What’s your story, morning glory? Tell me your tale, snail.

I hear their stories every day in Group, at lunch, in Crafts, at breakfast, at dinner, on and on. These words that spill from them, black memories, they can’t stop. Their stories are eating them alive, turning them inside out. They cannot stop talking.I cut all my words out. My heart was too full of them.
————–I room with Louisa. Louisa is older and her hair is like a red-and-gold noisy ocean down her back. There’s so much of it, she can’t even keep it in with braids or buns or scrunchies. Her hair smells like strawberries; she smells better than any girl I’ve ever known. I could breathe her in forever.My ﬁrst night here, when she lifted her blouse to change for bed, in the moment before that crazy hair fell over her body like a protective cape, I saw them, all of them, and I sucked my breath in hard.She said, “Don’t be scared, little one.”I wasn’t scared. I’d just never seen a girl with skin like mine.